Friday, June 26, 2015

While
going through the process of editing a story and readying it for publication,
some scenes just don’t make the cut. They slow the pacing, wander off topic or generally
don’t work to make that finished read. I learned a long time ago to never permanently
delete scenes—I just save them to another file during the slash and burn
process. Who knows? They might come in handy someday. (And yes…my closets are
overly full due to the same reasoning.)

What
follows is a deleted scene from MY HIGHLAND LOVER. It gives a bit of backstory
on Granny and her ongoing war with the snarky town busybody who picks on Trulie
before the time jump back to the thirteenth century introduces Trulie to the
man destined to be hers.

Deleted Scene:

This couldn’t be good. Granny
and Mrs. Hagerty had declared open war ever since Granny had beaten Mrs.
Hagerty at her own game. Mrs. Hagerty was the town busybody and took it upon
herself to ensure everyone walked the straight and narrow or suffered the consequences.

When Mrs. Hagerty had
announced to the entire town that old Mr. Cleary was paying overnight visits to
the Widow Beams, Granny couldn’t stand idly by and allow two meek, innocent
people drown in the wake of Mrs. Hagerty’s wrath.

Mrs. Hagerty had told
everyone who would stand still long enough to listen that she had undeniable
proof that Mr. Cleary was spending his nights at Widow Beams’ house. In fact,
the randy old goat, as Mrs. Hagerty so delicately put it, had done so several
nights in a row.

Mrs. Hagerty had even gone so
far as to march the entire congregation of her church down to the widow’s house
one Sunday morning and pointed out Mr. Cleary’s truck parked in the widow’s
driveway. Here was the undeniable proof—at least in Mrs. Hagerty’s mind—that
the two were carrying on an illicit affair behind the back of Mr. Cleary’s
poor, Alzheimer-stricken wife.

Needless to say, Granny was
livid when shy, humiliated Widow Beams told Granny what happened. As it turned
out, the only reason Mr. Cleary’s truck was parked in her driveway was because
Mr. Cleary’s son had surprised his parents with a new minivan and there was no
room in Mr. Cleary’s driveway for his old truck.

Granny reassured the
distraught Widow Beams, hung up the phone, then declared open war on Mrs.
Hagerty. The following Sunday, Granny waited until all the folks had filed into
the tiny white church and taken their seats. Just before the pianist played the
opening hymn, Granny interrupted the service.

In a voice ringing loud with
feigned emotion, she had beseeched the minister and the congregation to follow
her to Mrs. Hagerty’s home. Granny convinced them all to be quite concerned for
poor Mrs. Hagerty because after all, in all the woman’s years as member of The
First Divinity Church of Masonville, how many times had Mrs. Hagerty failed to
attend a service? Suitably more curious than worried, the parishioners poured
out of the church and followed Granny.

With Granny at the front of
the crowd, they arrived at Mrs. Hagerty’s pristine house that sprawled the
width of the city block. Loud banging and shrill screeching could be heard
coming from behind the brightly painted double front doors. Once Granny checked
to ensure she had her audience’s complete attention, she pointed at the
rattling doors and called out, “Mrs. Hagerty are you all right?”

As soon as Granny spoke the
words, the front doors burst open and a very disheveled Mrs. Hagerty tumbled
out onto the wide front porch. The red-faced woman pulled up short when she
discovered a good portion of the small town’s population standing in her wide
circular drive.

“What are you all staring
at?” Mrs. Hagerty’s high-pitched shriek could crack glass as she hopped back
and forth across the porch like an angry bird protecting its nest. “I was
trapped in my own house. None of the doors would open. Why aren’t you all in
church where you belong?”

The crowd drew in a
collective gasp when from behind Mrs. Hagerty, bare-chested George Helman, the
amiable town alcoholic who made his living by digging through garbage and
selling scrap metal, strolled out of the wide entryway and joined Mrs. Hagerty
on the front porch. George smiled, waved at the crowd then finished zipping up
his pants.

Mrs. Hagerty’s shriek rose to
an even higher pitch as she pummeled poor George with the handful of plastic
flowers she ripped from the window box on the porch. The crowd roared as
plastic petals flew through the air as Mrs. Hagerty herded the laughing George
off her land.

Once the crowd finally
disbursed, only Granny had remained on the walkway in front of Mrs. Hagerty’s
house. Mrs. Hagerty had stood panting and red-faced just inches from Granny’s
nose. “I don’t know how you barricaded my door. I don’t know how you put that
man in my house but I know it was you. You…you…witch!”